


Defeating the Dark Arts; A Hogwarts Study

by spiffingtea



Series: A Hogwarts Study [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: A Hogwarts Study, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Wizards, Characters to be added, Childhood Friends, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Family Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Professor!Castiel, Quidditch Player Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-05-19 17:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffingtea/pseuds/spiffingtea
Summary: With the Dark Wizard Lucifer publicly on the rise with his reign of terror, and Castiel incapacitated from an attack on Diagon Alley, Dean is left to balance his newly realised destiny and learn what it truly means to protect that what you love.Hogwarts!AU for Supernatural. Part 2 of the main 'A Hogwarts Study' story





	1. Bedtime Stories

**Author's Note:**

> It's time for part two!
> 
> Thank you all that have been reading this for the patience during my small hiatus - among a natural break, the end of the Uni year and some family stuff, I was taken away a lot longer than anticipated. But I'm back, and I hope you all enjoy the continued journey of my wizard boys and finding each other and their place in this story. <3

Cas grins up at Dean as their chests bump together. Fingers tangle, and he leans forward, breaths close enough that the stubble on both their cheeks brush. Dean feels the corner of his lips tingle from the odd feeling. 

He looks down at Cas, a smile slipping along his jaw as blue eyes settle on his own. The chilled wind brushes at the man's dark locks. "You're such a tease."

Cas' expression falls neutral, but the mischief lingers in the creases around his eyes. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about, Winchester."

Dean takes a step forward, forcing Cas to trip or follow through. Dean holds onto him tight enough that Cas takes a step back, and they fall into a soft sway, gentle strings floating through the Hall's doors towards them. Dean's hands slowly slip down the other's waist.

"Hmm," Dean muses, considering Castiel with a curious gaze. "Am I going to have to charm you to the truth, Novak?"

"Magical, or personal?"

"Magical would be easier," Dean acknowledges, tilting his head ever so slightly down, "But personal is _much_ more fun."

Dean presses in, lips pushing against Cas'. Their sway stills as they kiss, soft and slow. Cas hums, eyes closed, before tilting his head back to look at him. "You're a master at both, it appears."

 

* * *

 

Dean awakes with a gasp.

The gentle sounds of public movement filters through the single pane window. Dean squints, his surroundings unfamiliar until the half finished cream paint on the walls falls into place, and his eyes settle on a frame, movement shuffling within it in a constant loop. A younger version of Sam and he, jostling each other with stretched cheeks and skin that didn’t quite know how to settle itself on their bones and muscles.

London.

With a small grunt, Dean lets his head fall back on the pillow. He rubs roughly at his eyes with his knuckles. Right. London.

He’d only arrived at the family home – which was mostly occupied by Sam and Jess these days – late last night.

Bobby’s face, as good as he was keeping a neutral expression, was something permanently imprinted in Dean’s mind.

An emergency staff meeting was not something unheard of, but they were rare.

All the staff members were gathered around in the staff room, looking curiously at each one. One or two of them held grim faces; they seem to know what the news was about. 

The meeting was called in the middle of the day, during the lunch hour, so some Professors are still holding onto mugs of tea or notes tucked under their arms.

Dean is still in his Quidditch gear, having trampled straight off the field.

Any murmurs silence as Bobby sweeps into the room. They all look at Bobby expectantly, and Bobby doesn't waste any time.

"Sorry about the timing for this meeting, but it's urgent. Diagon Alley was under attack reportedly just an hour ago."

His gaze settles on Dean.

"Unfortunately, one of our staff members were caught in the middle of the chaos. I've received news that Professor Novak is in a critical state, and has been taken into St. Mungos emergency care."

The staff room bubbles with concern. He feels Charlie and Jody's eyes on him. If his head didn't suddenly feel so numb, Dean would start feeling rather self conscious.

"Do we know anything else?" Jody eventually asks, because Dean sure as hell wasn't gonna manage to make his vocal cords work. Bobby is silent, for a moment.

"What _else_?" Dean finally croaks, surprising himself. Most of the staff body whip their heads around to him, thrown by the aggressive town at the Headmaster. Bobby is unperturbed, but sighs.

"It's possible he's been inflicted by the cruciatus curse. They're not sure."

As the room grows in rumour and conspiracy, Dean kicks a stool over, and strides out of the room.

 

* * *

 

Bobby had given him leave, later that day. Take a long weekend, he'd said, with a knowing look. It had only been a few days since their kiss outside the infirmary, but word travelled fast. 

As Dean strides through the clinical hallways of St Mungos, he shrugs off memories, ones that leave a sour taste in his mind. He hated this place.

Other wizards dressed in scrubs hurry by him as he winds down the corridors of the hospital. When he reaches the correct floor, a gentle looking male approaches him. Dean tries hard not to think of Cas.

"Can I help?" He asks Dean. Dean looks down at his shoes.

"I'm looking for Castiel -- Novak." He murmurs. He senses the other nod.

"Ah, ‘course. Follow me."

Dean is led down the ward, to a private room. The male stops him just outside and looks at him.

"You're Dean, yes?"

Dean nods, then clears his throat. "Uh, yeah."

"Then this might be for you."

The nurse produces a book and hands it to Dean. _The Curious Properties of_ _Grindylows_. Dean frowns, and opens the cover. When he reads the message he finds himself swallowing, hard.

The door is opened.

"Mr Novak is obviously... unresponsive, currently. Please let me know if you spot any signs of change while you're in there."

Dean steps into the room alone. As the door is closed behind him, the stifled ambience of the rest of the ward dissipates as quickly as he enters. He grips at the book and helplessly looks around the room. Bare. White. A hospital room. In the centre is a bed with a chair beside it.

Dean forces himself to take a deep breath when he sums up the courage to gaze at the male in the bed. He remembers identifying a body, before, still and pale.

Castiel was pale, alright, but he was clearly a step above death. Not by much, if the whimpers, and the cold sweat on the forehead said anything.

Dean steps towards the bed and places the book down for a moment on the bedside table. He slowly settles into the chair. He watches the other male, for a few moments. 

Dean breathes, again.

"Hey, sweetheart." He eventually murmurs, steeling himself to reach forward, and lets his fingers sweep through the stray locks on Castiel's forehead. Castiel doesn't appear to respond to the touch. "You're gonna be just fine."

He glances at the book. He reaches for it.

If the curse was sustained enough that Castiel was simply dealing with constant, excruciating pain, then maybe a distraction would help. Or maybe Dean needs the distraction much more than Castiel would ever need.

He opens the book to the first page. Hesitantly, he takes one of Castiel's hands in his own.

Dean begins to read. 

" _One may consider that the properties of Grindylows are nothing of import; however, after over twenty years of experiencing working amongst such unique and superb creatures, I have committed to informing_..."


	2. An introduction to Grindylows

_17 Years Earlier_

 

Professor Naomi paces the front of the classroom amidst a faltering silence. She comes to a stop in front of Dean’s desk, and slides the paper in front of him between her index finger and thumb, peeling it away from him to look at it.

She's silent as she scans through the essay.

“… Grindylows?”

Dean provides her with a lazy grin. “Those are the instructions you left for us, ain’t it?”

Naomi, staring at Dean for a few more seconds, glances back at the scribble of chalk on the black board at the front of the room.

The chalk long dismissed, the board simply reads ‘Two full pages on the characteristics of Grindylows.’ Naomi spends just enough time staring at the board for Dean to shuffle uneasily in his seat.

She turns back around, folding his work.

“Very well. Novak, let me see what you’ve produced.”

Castiel, sat behind Dean, holds up four sheets of paper. Naomi takes them without a glance.

“I asked for two sheets, Castiel.”

He looks at her. “There’s four sheets—”

“Yes, and I asked for two.”

They stare at each other. Naomi rolls her eyes, and snatches the sheets from him.

“Whatever. You’re both dismissed.”

Cas does nothing but glares as the room echoes with the screech of chairs and polyester bags being dragged along wax floors and both boys shuffling out of the room.

They remain in silence for some ways down the corridor, walking side by side with rucksacks and satchels slung over shoulders. Their footfalls patter down the hallway ahead of them.

“… Grindylows?” Castiel questions, and to Dean’s surprise Cas is trying not to laugh. He blinks at him for a moment, unsure how to respond to the brevity that was surfacing within the most serious wizard and teenager he’d ever met.

“… What? This face ain’t just for show.” He remarks, a soft wink, and he falls quiet. He feels Cas shrug beside him.

“It was… a lot, to ask me to alter her charm on the blackboard, just for a small advantage. I could’ve helped—”

“Nah, she could’ve caught us talking. Besides, isn’t it way more satisfying knowing that you could counter the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor’s own charm?”

Castiel bows his head. “I… suppose.”

“Yeah,” Dean nods, and nudges him in the shoulder. “You’d make a way better Defence against the Dark Arts teacher than her one day, I bet.”

Castiel’s head doesn’t move. He murmurs, quietly. “… You know I’ll be training to become an Auror, just like the rest of my family.”

"Hey, ya never know.”

Cas finally looks at him. Dean motions back to the classroom.

“You’re not like Lucifer, so you’re sure as hell don’t need to be like the rest of the family either. Bet you could do whatever you want - you’re really smart, wouldn’t be an issue for you—”

Cas keeps looking at him. “Dean...”

They stare at each other. Dean looks away.

“Well, we’re fair and square now. You don’t owe me anythin’.” Dean mutters. He glances back, eyebrows raised. “… See ya around?”

They come to a stop at the top of the Grand Staircase, soft groans of wood as the stars shift throughout the hall. Castiel gazes at him.

Dean opens his mouth to say something when, with a nod, Cas turns and steps onto the staircase. Dean watches as he descends, carried away by the ever gliding staircase.


End file.
